


Five times Andrés built up Martín's confidence and one time he didn't

by orphan_account



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty talk gone wrong, Dubious Consent, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kinky sex gone wrong, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sexism, what even is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I'm gay.""Alright. What about him? He has been looking at you for the past half an hour.“ Andrés suggested, pointing at a guy that was definitely handsome, as though Martín had just told him that he preferred orange juice, instead of admitting something he had tried to hide for the whole last year.Or, five times, Andrés builds up Martín's confidence plus one time he doesn't.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 13
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my second fanfic for this ship. I was encouraged to write this, so I hope this isn't too bad. English isn't my first language.

The first time, it had happened had been exactly one year after meeting each other. Initially, they weren't meant to meet at all, since Andrés and his little group of criminals had been looking for an engineer, though not for Martín who had simply been celebrating his graduation. The rest is history.

They had noticed soon just how similiar the two of them were, both interested rather in the schemes of their following heists, not like the dull idiots they had done that very first heist with who only cared about the material goods they were gaining from the robberies. Not about the art behind every single plan, not about the rush that came from almost being caught. So, their decision to leave those others behind and go their own way had been easy, just as easy as deciding to travel together from then on.

By now, it had been a year since that fateful day. A year of travelling together, planning small heists and simply appreciating each other's company. As friends.

Because that's all they were. Friends.

Martín had been showering, when Andrés decided to barge into the bathroom, not minding that his friend was naked and only hidden by the milky glass separating them. The same could not be said for Martín, who currently felt as though his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

"I'm showering, Andrés. Can't you wait for a few more minutes?" Of course, Andrés ignored his rightful protests in order to explain just why he felt the need to interrupt his peaceful shower.

Now, here was the thing. It wasn't as though Martín actively hid his sexuality, he had hookups, he flirted with guys, however, he had always made sure that Andrés was never near him when he indulged in his sexuality. Too often had it been made clear to Martín that people, especially guys like Andrés who seemed so confident and painfully heterosexual, were not fond of gay people.

Especially not if they were living with you, eating the same food as you and currently, in the shower right besides you, when you were naked.

Apparently, Andrés was becoming annoyed because clearly, Martín wasn't listening but rather focused on willing his body to behave. There was one thing worse than standing in the shower naked while his best friend stood outside: having an erection while your oblivious friend was standing outside.

"Martín, you are not listening." Andrés scolded with a small tutting sound. "Could you repeat what you said?“ This time, Martín would make sure to listen.

"We're going to a cocktail bar, mi amigo. I've met someone. She's lovely! I want you to meet her and then, we'll find you someone as well. I can't have my best friend all alone while I enjoy myself."

It would have been sweet, except for the fact that one, Martín was not interested in any kind of female company and second, that Martín was helplessly in love with Andrés. Still, denying Andrés' wish would only cause suspicion. Martín was very much fine without another person turning on him for being gay, so, the cocktail bar it was.

Thankfully, he was left in peace for the rest of his shower after agreeing to Andrés' offer.

"What about her? She's pretty and she has been staring at you." Andrés subtly jerked his chin into the direction where a rather pretty brunette was sitting who had been staring at Martín for the past ten minutes as she was sipping her drink.

The engineer was not having a good time. First, meeting Andrés' newest flame, then having the two pointing out multiple women who seemed interested in him. Yeah, no. Definitely not.

That particular lady had been the fifth woman so far.

"Martín, I swear, you're almost as bad as my hermanito. We've been together for one year and I haven't seen you with a single person." The Argentinian just shrugged at the comment, sipping his own cocktail. Andrés was mistaken, Martín had been with people in that time, his friend had just not been around to see.

The game of mentioning women who seemed into him continued until, after the tenth attempt to get him to interact with one of them, Martín finally had enough. He didn't have much patience to begin with.

"I'm gay."

Now, Martín wasn't sure what to expect. Last time, someone had found about his sexuality, who was not one of the guys he had been hooking up with, he had been beaten to a pulp, called names and thrown out of the house. So, in all honesty, he wasn't sure what to expect.

For Andrés to leave? For Andrés to insult him? Maybe, Andrés would even go as far as to hit him. After all, the other had been in the bathroom when he had showered this morning and Martín hadn't said anything. They had touched each other intimately, Andres' hands always fnding a spot on his shouler, a hand running through his hair or a simple gesture of touching his cheek. That would end now. Their whole friendship would end now.

"Alright. What about him? He has been looking at you for the past half an hour." Andres suggested, pointing at a guy that was definitely handsome, as though Martín had just told him that he preferred orange juice, instead of admitting something had had tried to hide for the whole last year. His friend looked like he had just admitted to something completely trivial. 

"What the fuck? I just told you I'm gay and you act like nothing happened? Did you know I'm gay?" The other had probably seen him with a guy before, that would be the reason he wasn't shocked, though he shook his head signalling that this was not the case.

Don't get him wrong. Martín was positively surprised that there wasn't a fuss about his sexuality though he had to admit that this nonchalance came rather unexpected. "You're fine with me being into guys?"

Andrés' answer came prompt, rolling his eyes like Martín had insulted him. "Martín, do you think of me as some kind of barbarian? Love is an art. Art in its' rawest form, so who am I to diminish or judge that? Back to the topic, you should go over to him."

The whole thing had been so unexpected that Martín was too overwhelmed to really process it but when he did, there were tears in his eyes. His father had kicked him out for liking guys, yet here, Andrés was, accepting this part of him in an instant without any ridiculous questions asked. Even going so far as to encourage him to flirt up some other man.

Needless to say, after that, Martín didn't hide his sexuality again around Andrés, neither consciously nor subconsciously. It took some time for him to be this confident around strangers as well, however, with Andrés at his side, supporting him in his sexuality and being quick to come to his defense when anyone was a homophobic asshole, Martín never again hid this aspect of his life. Not from anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, I thought I would update this regularly. Well, guess I was wrong. Lmao, I am so sorry for this delay. 
> 
> TW: dirty talk gone wrong, violence, could be considered non-con (but Martín does give consent, it's weird, proceed carefully), smut (but not a lot), child abuse
> 
> Honestly, I don't know what else to tag. I hope, this is it. Please be careful reading this and stay safe!

Contrary to popular belief, Martín Berrote was not kinky.

Some people believed that because he was gay, Martín would be a kinky bastard. Others deemed that it was because of his brash personality, his seeking desire to get into petty fights that he liked to get put into his place in bed. However, that couldn't be further from the truth. Martin was definitely not kinky. He enjoyed a good fuck, sometimes, he liked it rougher than on other days, but overall, Martín's sex preferences were considerably vanilla.

The Argentinian didn't like to be hit during sex, he didn't like being called names and he didn't like being tied up. It made him feel weak, useless and helpless. Something Martín very much did not enjoy, since it reminded him of his childhood days, where he would flinch whenever his father would reach for his belt.

Those times were over. Martín Berrote was no longer a scared child looking for approval.

The only problem was that some of the guys Martín picked up liked exactly those things and Martín didn't have the heart to tell them off. He always felt slightly guilty whenever the guy's face fell as Martín told them that he was not interested in any form of bondage or impact play. Therefore, ninety percent of the time, he just agreed to anything the other wanted. It was the least he could do, even if it left him with bruises and aches.

Thankfully, Andrés never commented on the bruises on his wrists or the bad limp Martín sported when one of those guys had been especially rough on him. His friend never commented, he just frowned, before he was all playful grins again.

However, there were times when things became too much. Times when Martín would regret not being able to say no.

Tonight was one of those times.

He had been to a bar, without Andrés for once, because the other man was busy with his latest wife, much to Martín's annoyance who could hear the moans quite loudly, because those walls in the monestary were much too thin. Besides that, the quiet grunts, Andrés let out, had him in need of letting off some steam as well and how to do that better than fuck all his frustrations away.

This was exactly why a slightly tipsy Martín was currently leading some guy into the monestary, in his room. The guy was handsome enough. A nice face, taller than him with sandy brown hair. If the random stranger had some similarities to Andrés, well, that was simply a coincedence.

It had all started to go wrong when the guy, Valerio, his mind supplied, asked him whether he could tie Martín's wrists to the headboard of his bed. „Fine“, Martín had agreed although his brain was screaming at him not to. The next few minutes had been a blur of heated kisses, of clothes being carelessly thrown to the floor and then, all too sudden, Valerio was tying his wrists to the headboard with his scarf. Even though he wasn't kinky, he could admit that a rope delicately tied around his wrists was much more pleasant than this cheap imitation. Too sloppy.

At least, things turned more enjoyable when Valerio started kissing at his neck. Martín was laying on his stomach on the bed, naked, as the guy straddled him. It wasn't the worst position he had found himself in, but also too vulnerable for his likng, especially with his hands tied.His back was too exposed. He didn't like this. It didn't feel good and already, the doubt was setting in.

„Could you maybe“, Martín started but was cut off by the guy. „Can I gag you? That'd be really hot.“ Before he could really process what was being asked, Martín nodded and then, a piece of clothing was tied around his head in a makeshift gag. This was even worse.

As much as the Argentinian hated his position, his hands being tied up and the stupid gag, he hoped that the actual sex would make up for it. He had expected Valerio to go at it now, since his hands were steadingly lowering on his body, though the guy seemed to have other plans for him.

It was only a whisper, in the heat of the moment, but instantly, the whole situation changed for him.

„You're a little whore, aren't you?“

His whole body froze instantly. His mind immediately flashed back to the first time that word had been used to insult him. He had been thirteen, sitting on his bed and kissing a boy for the first time. Of course, it was his luck, that in that exact moment, his mother had decided to walk into the room, who had started screaming hysterically. The other boy had been thrown out and then, Martín had been beaten senseless. His mother had accused him of shaming their family honour, as though the Berrote family living in the slums of Buenos Aires had any honour left. The worst of it had been when his mother had started to call him a useless whore, despite the fact that Martín, only _thirteen_ at the time, had never before in his life kissed anyone, much less had had sex with anyone.

Martín didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted the guy off of him.

The issue was that with his hands tied, Martín couldn't shove the guy away and with the improvised gag, he was unable to talk. Only then, did it dawn on him that they had not agreed upon a safeword, they hadn't agreed on any kind of signal, which meant that Martin was in serious trouble. He tried to buck Valerio off of him, to show him that he didn't want this anymore, though apparently, it wasn't taken as such but rather as excitement.

„You like my dirty talk, don't you?“ Martin did not. „You like being called a whore.“ The reaction was instanteous. A sob shook through his body and he started to frantically shake his head.

At least, at that reaction, Valerio seemed to recognize that something had gone wrong. Immediately, he started apologising, removing the gag and asking if Martín was fine, but truth was, that he wasn't fine. Martín didn't know what exactly happened after that, his head was buried into his pillow, his body shaking with sobs and his hands frantically tugging at the restraints. Valerio seemed to have left. The asshole had left him like that. Tied up to his bed and a sobbing mess.

Now, usually the engineer possessed some dignity, believe it or not, though at this point, he was not beneath anything in order to get out of this situation. There was only one option and as embarrassed as Martín was, there was no other alternative.

Thus, he began to call for Andrés.

It didn't even take a full minute before his friend stormed into his room, gun in his hand and only clad in his ridiculous silk boxers. „Oh, Martín.“ Andrés immediately lowered his gun, instead walking over and untieing his beloved engineer from the bed's headbord. „You're fine, Martín. Nobody's going to hurt you, do you understand me? Noone.“ Although he didn't know what exactly had happened, Andrés could piece some things together, which was also why he continued to talk in that soothing tone of his, pulling the blanket around Martín's body.

Andrés de Fonollosa was known as a sociopath, some even claimed he was unable of feeling emotions alltogether, that he was a full blown psychopath. It wasn't too far off from the truth. Andrés did have difficulties when it came to emotions, which was why he preferred to keep them locked up tightly. However there were two exceptions. His hermanito, of course and the smart Argentinian who had wormed his way into his life. Anyone who looked at him now, with his best friend in his arms, while he was whispering gentle words, would be able to tell that Andrés de Fonollosa was in fact not a psychopath.

After Martín had calmed down, Andrés had urged him to sleep. He would feel much better in the morning, when he wasn't feeling tipsy from the alcohol, Andrés could easily smell on him. And then, the Spaniard could get to know whoever had chosen the death penalty for themselves by leaving Martín in such a state.

On the next day, in the evening, both Martín and Andrés could be found sitting in a bar together. The same bar, Martín had went to a day prior and come out of with Valerio at his side. It was a bit of a reach that they would find Valerio here again after that disastrous mess Martín was still embarrassed about. 

He wasn't even sure why they were here, if he was being honest. 

That morning, Andrés had urged him to talk about what had happened and even though Martín was embarrassed, he couldn't deny Andrés anything and so, he had spilled everything. From that childhood experience, to feeling obliged to take whatever the guys he brought home preferred, to being reluctant to say no to any of them in fear of being rejected. 

And now, they were here. In that bar. 

Even crazier than that, Valerio had walked in less than a minute ago, had taken a look at Martín and completely ignored him in favour of talking to some other guy, at which Andrés tutted. Honest to god, tutted. As though Valerio was somehow offending him by not talking to Martín. 

They only sat in quiet after that. At least, until Valerio walked into the direction of the bathrooms, which in turn had Andrés tugging Martín up to follow. He didn't know why exactly they were following the guy into the restroom and it didn't get any clearer when, once inside, Andrés pushed a fork into his hand, grabbing his shoulders. 

"I want you to stab that asshole", Andrés whispered into his ear from where he was standing behind Martín. 

It really shouldn't have been surprising, but it was. Especially, once Andrés continued talking, making sense of why he wanted Martín to stab Valerio. 

"You're going to set an example, Martín. How many times have you just taken everything, huh? How many times did you not tell someone no when you wanted to? That's going to stop right now. You're not anyone's sex toy. You're Martín Berrote. You're an intelligent engineer, you're incredibly handsome and you're going to show to yourself that you're worth so much more than you realise." 

From an outsider's perspective, the words accompanied by the demand, should have raised red flags in about any sane person's head. This guy was telling him to teach someone and himself a lesson in boundaries, in respecting himself, by ordering him to stab someone. It was hipocrisy in its finest form. However, neither Andrés, nor Martín, could be considered a sane person. Which was exactly why the words resonated in his mind. 

Valerio didn't see it coming. That was probably the funniest part about it. The idiot hadn't noticed the two men following him to the restroom and he hadn't noticed Martín raising up his arm to stab him with a fork. Once. Twice. Sixteen times. For every time, Martín let someone push him around. For every time, Martín didn't say no when his head was screamig at him to do so. For every time, Martín thought he wasn't worth anything. 

The whole time, Andrés was grinning at the sight and once Martín was finished, Valerio's body lifeless on the ground, he grinned right back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, would anyone like to beta? Or, help me understand how the hell ao3 and tumblr works? Because, I'm soo confused.


End file.
